Bright, beautiful eyes
by Black Fullmoon
Summary: When Sherlock arrives on a crime scene, he discovers that the victim was someone close to him. Now he and John have to find a serial killer obsessed in eyes, and to deal with a traumatized little girl without parents.
1. Chapter 1

_**Sooo... This is my first long fic in this section, I hope it won't totally suck. It's also my first long in English and I hope there won't be too many mistakes. Rewiews will make me happy, so leave some if you wanna make an unknown Italian teenager (me) happy ^^  
Disclaimer: I'd really like to own Sherlock, but I don't. Crap!**_

- I'm coming! - John screamed running down the stairs. The moment he was preparing to go out someone rang the doorbell. And with Mrs Hudson out of course he had to stop everything and go down, not Sherlock, who was lying on the couch watching the ceiling.  
- Good morning, who... Oh, hi Mycroft -  
- Good morning doctor Watson, I'd like to speak with my brother - the elder Holmes said politely.  
- Sure - John was quite perplex. It wasn't Mycroft stile. Usually he just went inside with his pair of keys (doesn't matter how many times John changed the lock, Mycroft always had his own keys), greet politely, sit on an armchair and wait until someone (usually John) asked him what did he want. He never stayed outside waiting. And at this point he always called him "John", not "doctor Watson".  
- Hello Sherlock - Mycroft sit on an armchair. Sherlock didn't even looked at him.  
- Alright boys - said John - I'm going out, can I trust you or when I'll be back one of you would have killed the other? -  
- Relax doctor Watson, we both are adults and we'll act like it. At least this time we'll do it for sure - John nodded and went out. In the flat the tension was palpable. Mycroft didn't smile and seemed to be something close to sad. Sherlock ignored him, deciding that the ceiling was far more important.  
- Sherlock, listen to me, this time at least. It's important -  
- I'm sure it is, but I won't do it anyway - Mycroft sighed.  
- Please brother, it's... - Mycroft was interrupted by the sound of Sherlock's phone. The younger Holmes picked it up.  
- Sorry Mycroft, I've got a case -  
- Sherlock... -  
- Bye bye brother - Sherlock ran out of the flat, tapping on his phone.  
Got a case SH  
And...? JW  
Come to Hyde Park SH  
I'm at work! JW  
So? SH  
I can't come now, or Sarah will kill me! JW  
John, you're my blogger, technically you work for me and then for the clinic SH  
John? SH  
John? SH  
JOHN! SH  
Have I already told you today that I hate you? JW  
You don't hate me SH  
Shut up JW  
Are you coming?  
Yes. But don't you dare complaining if one day you'll have to pay the rent alone JW  
Sherlock smiled. The ride to the park lasted other five minutes. He paied the cabbie and went were the corpse probably was. Lestrade saw him coming.  
- Hey Sherlock -  
- What do we have? -  
- Woman, around the age of forty, brutally killed this night. No documents -  
- How much did you stay here? -  
- Almost two hours I think. Why? -  
- Fantastic, now thanks to your idiots every proof the murderer could have left is probably distructed -  
- Yeah. Here we are - Sherlock stared at the body.  
- Hello, am I late? - John said, panting for the run he made for arrive there the earliest he could - Sherlock, you have to stop calling me while I'm at work, or I'll be in trouble one day, and... Sherlock? Hey, are you alright? - John stared at Sherlock. The black haired man was looking the corpse wide eyes, in a strange mix of what John recognized as shock, anger and even fear.  
- How did you find her? - Sherlock asked. His voice didn't betray his emotions, only his eyes did. Also Lestrade noticed that something wasn't ok.  
- A girl covered in blood appeared at the Yard. She said were to find her and that she was her mother. Then she remained silent, probably she's under shock. But Sherlock, is there anything wrong? -  
- No, not at all - Sherlock esamined the corpse. She was tall, with long black hair. The murderer killed her with a knife, cutting her multiple times, and worst of all he drew her eyes, leaving two black, bloody holes.  
- It's... Definetly desturbing - John said.  
- Probably the daughter saw it all. She's ten probably, it's a very traumatizing thing to see - confirmed Lestrade.  
- Lestrade -  
- Yes Sherlock? -  
- We've got a serial killer -  
- W-what? -  
- You heard me. This is not the first time he kills, and the victim wasn't designed. She had something that turned his killer instinct on, her eyes probably. I wanna talk with the daughter -  
- Sherlock, she's under shock... -  
- Of course, but I still have to speak with her, the sooner the better -  
- Sherlock, tell me the truth. Are you ok? - John asked. The consulting detective was acting normal, he no more had that strange look in his eyes, but John knew he wasn't fine. His hand were trembeling - not very much, but they weren't totally still.  
- I told you John, I'm alright -  



	2. Chapter 2

**_Hello people! This chapter is quite short, but maybe I'll publish another today. A big thank to _Mzzmarie_ who left a rewiew, I hope you'll like also the rest^^_**

John couldn't stop wondering what was the problem with Sherlock. His hands stopped shaking, and he had again his indifference mask on him, but John was totally sure he wasn't fine.  
- I am fine John - Sherlock said.  
- No, you aren't -  
- Why do you think so? -  
- Because your hands were shaking, because you made a strange expression before and because you're acting strange -  
- I'm not acting strange -  
- Yes you are. You haven't your God-yes-we-have-a-serial-killer look - John said. Sherlock didn't reply.  
When they arrived at Scotland Yard, they found a black car and Mycroft Holmes standing, obviously waiting for them.  
- What do you want? - Sherlock asked.  
- I know what happened, and I want you to stop investigate on... On this -  
- You know I won't -  
- Sherlock, we'll find him and take care of him, but you have to stop -  
- No Mycroft. I'll find him, beat him and then, maybe, I'll give him to you -  
- Sher... -  
- Shut up! - Sherlock yelled. He walked straight in the building, ignoring his brother. He felt the rage grow every minute. John ran after him.  
- Seriously Sherlock what's going on? - he asked.  
- Nothing. I have to speak with the girl - Sherlock answered.  
- Oh, the freak - Donovan said seeing them.  
- I have to speak with the girl - Sherlock repeated.  
- If I were you I wouldn't. She's not exactly fine -  
- Is she wounded? - John asked.  
- Just a few superficial cuts, but she is in shock. She just said where to find the mother, then she remained silent all the time - Sally explained. Sherlock tried to surpass her, being blocked.  
- Let me go! -  
- Freak, have I to remind you what happened last time you talked with a shocked kid? - Donovan said.  
- This time she's right Sherlock. You're not good with kids, let alone traumatized ones - John said. Sherlock stared at him.  
- I know. So now you - he pointed John - Go and ask her exactly what I want to know. But I doubt she'll answer to you -  
- Alright. Donovan, let us pass - Sally looked them and then guided them to the interrogation room. Behind the glass they saw a woman trying to speak with a girl. She was no older than ten, pale, thin, with curly brown hair and blue eyes. She wasn't looking the woman, but stared the wall.  
- Ask her what did she see, what were she and her mother doing and if she think she remember anything in particoular of the aggressor. And how did she get there - Sherlock said. John nodded and went in.  
The girl turned to look at him. She had the most curly hair John ever saw. Her eyes were of a light shade of blue, almost grey. She didn't seem to focus on John, just accepted the fact he was in the room  
- Hello, my name's John - he said. He didn't know why he accepted to speak with her. He sure wasn't like Sherlock, specialized in traumatize everyone (kids or adults), but he wasn't a genious with kids. He liked them, and often they liked him too, but this girl didn't seem to be willing to talk to anyone.  
- I... I heard something bad happened to you and... And I'd like if you tell me something if you can - the girl continued to ignore him - Ok, well... Would you tell me your name? You know mine so... - the girl gave no answer. She tilted her head and looked the dark glass. John ran an hand through his hair. There must have been a way to make her talk.  
Sherlock wasn't listening to Donovan saying something about traumatized girls and killers. He was getting sick of the situation.  



	3. Chapter 3

**_Here's the second chapter. This is quite short too but I needed to separe it from the next_**

John cleared his troat. He didn't know exactly what to do. He'd been in there for fifteen minutes and still he didn't make any progress. The girl ignored him totally.  
- Are you hungry? Thirsty maybe? - he asked. He kicked himself mentally for being so banal. Of course someone already asked her that and she didn't gave an answer.  
Sherlock was getting nervous. Really nervous. John didn't give any help to the situation, as he predicted.  
- Do you... - John was interrupted by Sherlock's entrance in the room - Sherlock what... - Sherlock standed right in front of the girl, who looked at him silent as ever.  
- Now Sam open your mouth and tell us what do you remember of your mother murder. And when I say now I mean right NOW! - John and the woman in the room stared at Sherlock wide eyes.  
- Fine - both of them looked now the girl, wondering if it was just they're imagination or she really did speak.  
- I'm waiting - Sherlock said.  
- Me and Mum were walking in the park. Mum liked it at night. Then a man came out with a knife and ran toward us. He and Mum fighted and she shouted that I had to run away. I did it and I hid and then that man killed Mum and... - the girl stopped speaking, looking Sherlock in the eyes. Her childish voice was low and emotionless.  
- And? - the girl was back to her silence. Sherlock sighed.  
- Sherlock... - Lestrade entered the room. He arrived a few moments before and saw all the scene.  
- Are you going to say anything else? - Sherlock asked the girl. She gave no answer. Sherlock turned and went straight out the room.  
- What was that? - Lestrade followed Sherlock.  
- Sherlock, slow down! - John shouted. The consulting detective ignored both of them, going out of the Yard and taking the first taxi. John and Lestrade watched as the cabbie drove away.  
- Did you understand? - Lestrade asked. - No. But I have the feeling Sherlock knew the victim and her daughter before - John saw a black car stop right in front of them.  
- Not again - Lestrade sighed.  
- So I'm not the only one who is kidnapped by Mycroft - John said.  
- Actually this would be the second time this year -  
- You're lucky -  
- How many times did he kidnap you? -  
- This would be the third this month -  
- Please, come in - Anthea said tapping on her Blackberry. John sit on the backseat. After a little esitation, Lestrade followed him.  



	4. Chapter 4

Q **_Hello people! So now we doscover who was the woman and who is the girl. Enjoy_**

The car left them in a warehouse. Mycroft Holmes was standing in front of them.  
- Mycroft, since you were at the Yard when we arrived couldn't you just speak with us there? - John asked annoyed.  
- I presume - Mycroft said.  
- What's the problem Holmes? - Lestrade huffed.  
- Relax, Detective Inspector, relax -  
- Who is the girl? - John asked - Sherlock already knew her, and you surely do - Mycroft smiled. It was a strange, sad smile.  
- Of course. But first of all, I wanna you to stop Sherlock. He mustn't investigate on this case. I found the murder out almost in the same moment you did. This morning, as Doctor Watson can confirm, I went at 221b in order to tell Sherlock about the victim and try to convince him in not investigate even if he was called to, but I didn't have luck. I know he won't listen to me, but maybe you can have more... power of persuasion with him -  
- You didn't answer. Who is the girl and who was her mother? - John repeated.  
- You don't need to know -  
- Holmes, tell us because at the moment I don't see any reason to obey you. Sherlock said we probably have a serial killer and he is the best in find serial killers - Lestrade said, watching Mycroft in the eyes. The political man saw the determination of knowing in both the other two men. He sighed.  
- Yes, I think you're right - he said. He cleared his troat.  
- C'mon Mycroft -  
- Keep calm Doctor Watson. The girl's name is Samantha Creed, and she's nine. Both her parents are now dead. Her mother was called Annabell Holmes, and she was my -and Sherlock's- elder sister - the silence fell on the three men.  
- Your... Your sister? - John was shocked. Sherlock never told him he had a sister. Actually, of Sherlock's relatives he knew only Mycroft and he heard about "Mummy" a couple of times.  
- Yes, my sister. I want to catch the muderer with all of my being, to give justice to my sister and, if Sherlock is right, also to other unfortunate women like her. But I don't want Sherlock to investigate. John, Gregory, please. Stop him - the two of them exchanged a look. They never heard Mycroft begging before. It was quite out of character.  
- I... I'll tell him to stop, but... But I cannot promise he'll do it. He doesn't really listen me that much. And I'm... Really sorry about your sister - John said, swallowing a few times.  
- Thank you -  
- But you know who the murderer is? You can control the CCTV cameras after all - Lestrade said. Mycroft laughed without happiness.  
- My sister hate... Hated to be kept under control. Unfortunatly, she was a sort of informatic genious and sviluped a system that could elude the cameras, keeping her literally invisible to them. Both her and Samantha had that on last night. I don't know exactly when they first went in the park or when Samantha ran away. Also, in that zone of the park there aren't cameras. I don't know the exact moment when she'd been killed, and I don't know if the killer stayed there or ran away. I don't even know how Samantha got to the Yard -  
- I understand - Lestrade said.  
- Good. There are two cars out there. One will take Doctor Watson home, the other the Detective Inspector to the Yard - both John and Lestrade nodded.  
- Mycroft -  
- Yes? -  
- What about Samantha? - Mycroft sighed.  
- At the moment I think is better to let her stay at the Yard, but I'll give all the instructions -  



	5. Chapter 5

**_Hi people! In this chapter Sherlock will be quite OOC and Samantha will start to speak a little. Leave rewiews please_**

The car left John in front of 221b. He went upstairs slowly, wondering what he'd say once in the flat. He entered, looking around. Sherlock wasn't anywhere to be seen.  
- Sherlock! Hey, are you at home? -  
- Yeah - Sherlock reappeard from the depth of his room. John noticed that despite his normal expressions he seemed tired, shoulders just a little curved.  
- Sherlock, I... -  
- You've been with Mycroft. He told you all about my sister and he told you to don't let me investigate on this case. You know I won't stop the investigation, no matter what you or he say - John cleared his troat. Of course he knew, but Mycroft was right. Sherlock shouldn't have taken the case.  
- I know. But Sherlock, you really should let this to someone else -  
- Oh, sure, and who is this "someone else"? Scotland Yard? I have strong doubts they'll find anything. Mycroft? And why he can and I cannot? - Sherlock's voice was going louder.  
- I don't know - John admitted - But... You know, it could be... -  
- Troublesome? Hard? Weird? Oh, yes, you're afraid of what I could feel. You worry about the human feelings I could have. Remind me what exactly a human feel in these circumstances, because I know, I don't have that much feelings - now Sherlock was definitly screaming, his face contorcted in rage. John sighed.  
- You do feel -  
- No, I don't -  
- You do. You know I know you enough to see when you feel something, and now you do. You're angry and you're sad, don't hide it because it won't work. Just the fact you have problems in hide you're anger it's a signal of how much you're upset - for a moment, John thought Sherlock would it him. He never saw him get angry at the point of punching someone, but from the look in his face it could have been the right time. But Sherlock remained still. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths.  
- Alright. Seems like this thing is affecting me a little too much -  
- It's not... -  
- Seems like you developed an interesting ability in reading me. Ok, my sister is dead and now I... I feel something. I suppose it's normal. But all this... Feeling stuff will be far gone in a few hours at most, so I can pick up this case and solve it. End of the argoument, now can you please shut up and let me go back to my rational thought? - John nodded. He still didn't think it was a good idea, but fighting with Sherlock wasn't something he wanted to do now.  
- I'm sorry - he said. Sherlock nodded and went back in his room. He didn't want John to see him while he still was in this stupid emotional state. He threw himself on the bed and layed there, returning to his mind place.  
John, having nothing to do, just sit on the couch. He turned on his laptop, wanting to do something on his blog. He found that he couldn't think of anything to write down. What could he say 'Hey people, Sherlock's sister has been murdered, her daughter is traumatized and Sherlock just show up his feelings'  
He stayed there for an hour, before his phone vibrated. He read the message.  
Come to the Yard now, and take Sherlock. It's about the girl GL  
- Sherlock! Lestrade wants us to go to the Yard - John went in the detective's room, practically lowering him by force from his bed.  
- John, not now! -  
- Sorry, but like I told you Lestrade wants us -  
- I'm coming, but I hope it's serious -  
- It is, I think. He said it's about the girl - Sherlock sighed.  
- Right. Come on John, we're out in a minute! - one minute and seven seconds later they were in the street. Other forty-two seconds and they were in a taxi.  
- How was Mycroft? -  
- What? -  
- You heard me John. I asked you how was Mycroft when you met him -  
- And I was a little surprised that you actually care of how Mycroft was -  
- I don't care, just wondering how he reacted to her death - John sighed. Right.  
- Strange. He was sad and was a lot less stubborn and mysterious than normal - he said. Sherlock nodded. He stayed silent for the rest of the ride to the Yard. When they arrived, he paid the cabbie probably too much and then almost ran inside.  
- What is the problem? - he asked Lestrade.  
- That girl is the problem -  
- Samantha you mean? -  
- Yes -  
- And what did my niece do for upset you that much? - in that moment, both Anderson and Donovan arrived.  
- Here again Freak? - Sally said.  
- He's Sherlock, not Freak. And he's here to talk with the girl -  
- She's traumatized! I don't know why she talked with him before, but I don't think it's such a great idea - Sally protested.  
- She's right, he can do something else to investigate - Anderson said. Lestrade sighed.  
- If it was for me, he'd be out of the case and I hope he'll listen to me and John for once but case or not he should speak with her, ok? -  
- But... -  
- Will this go on forever or can I do what you called me for, which is speak with my niece? - Sherlock asked quite pissed off. Both Anderson and Sally stared at him.  
- Your what? -  
- Niece, you know? In English means the daughter of a brother or of a sister, do you remember? - Sherlock said sarcastically.  
- Not now. Come Sherlock - Lestrade said walking away. Sherlock followed him.  
- I suppose the problem is that she still don't speak -  
- Yes. The psychologist said that see someone she trust can help, and since she speaked when you came before she suggest that your presence can help her -  
- I'm not a baby-sitter and now I'm quite busy - Lestrade stopped and looked at him.  
- I wasn't joking when I said you should give up the case. You're emotional involved - Sherlock stared at the DI like he came from another planet.  
- I'm not emotional involved! -  
- You liar - murmured John behind him.  
- You've been silent for all this time, can't you just keep on like that? - both John and Greg didn't say anything else.  
Samantha was sitting on a chair in Greg's office, blue eyes like always watching the wall. She barely looked them when they entered, before returning his glare on the wall.  
- Hi - Lestrade said tentatively. From her there was no answer.  
- You're name's Samantha, right? - John tried.  
- What have I to do here exactly? - Sherlock asked with a sigh.  
- 'Ake me speak - all turned Samantha's way. They were sure she speaked, though she didn't looked away from the wall or anything. Just open her mouth, said something and close it.  
- I presume you're right. So are you gonna speak with me so I can go solve you're mother's murder and all this story will end? - Sherlock said, walking and stopping just in front of her. She held her mouth close.  
- He isn't gonna give up the case? - Lestrade asked.  
- Apparently not. You know he's too stubborn to leave it to anyone else and... - "And I don't wanna have an argoument with him while he's in this state".  
- And? -  
- Nevermind -  
- John, we're leaving - Sherlock announced.  
- Why? -  
- Dear Samantha isn't going to help. We'll have to find him on our own. I suppose it'd take some more time, but poor Samantha is too scared - Sherlock said. Samantha got up and followed him.  
- I'm coming - she murmured.  
- And? -  
- 'm gonna help you -  
- Fantastic. John, move, we're going now - Sherlock said walking out the room. Samantha followed him, aparently without emotions. John caught Sherlock by his arm.  
- Wait, where are we going? -  
- Why you ask? Usually you don't ask such questions -  
- Because I wanna know, because I don't understand exactly why is she coming with us, because I worry about yourself - John said.  
- We're going home and she's coming because if she says anything I wanna hear it immediatly, not from anyone else who could distorce the sentences - John looked Sherlock in the eyes. There was something Sherlock wasn't telling him and he didn't understand exactly what. He left Sherlock's arm and nodded.  
- Ok - Sherlock turned and restarted walking. John watched as Samantha followed him, almost running to stay near him.


	6. Chapter 6

**_Good morning people (well, for me it's morning)! In this chapter... Well, it doesn't happen very much. However hope you like it_**

John was sitting on the couch, watching the two Holmes in the room. Sherlock started playing the violin as soon as they got in and now he was standing in front of the window, more torturing the instrument than playing. Samantha instead was sitting on an armchair, the usual emptyness in her blue eyes.  
- Hello boys, I'm back! - Mrs Hudson appeared in that moment.  
- Oh, hello - John said turning around.  
- You've got a case, eh? And who are you dear? - the old woman asked smiling at Samantha. John cleared his troat.  
- Mrs Hudson, do you need help with your bags? -  
- Oh, thank you John - she answered sensing a tense atmosphere and leading John to her flat.  
- Mrs Hudson, the victim was the girl's mother - he explained.  
- Oh my, such an unfortunate child! -  
- That's not all. She was also Sherlock's sister - Mrs Hudson nodded in understatement.  
- Is he ok? -  
- Sherlock? No, he isn't, but he is too stubborn to let the case to anyone else -  
- And that poor girl? -  
- She keep staring at the wall and speak almost never, and only with Sherlock. She saw all the thing. Now sorry, but I prefer to control them - John said walking upstairs. Nothing had changed the time he talked with Mrs Hudson.  
The whole day passed like that. Sherlock played without interruptions, Samantha just adjusted her position a couple of times. John knew he should've made them eat, at least the girl. He tried to give her a sandwich, but she ignored him totally. He passed the time on his blog and then eventually, at 11.27p.m. he fell asleep on the couch.  
When he woke up, at first he didn't realize why he did. It was still night. The flat was quite, no more violin or usual Sherlock's noises. Maybe he went out. That wouldn't have been the first time he went out at night. Then John heard a moan. He sit up, shoulders aching due to sleep on the couch. He saw Sam sleeping on the armchair. She was moving frantically and sometimes moaning or whining. Nightmares, of course.  
John approached her. Her forehead was covered in sweatand she was shaking. He cautiously put a hand on her shoulder, waking her. She stared at him wide eyes, terrified.  
- Hey, it's alright. It was a dream - the girl's breath became more regoular and she calmed down, curling herself in a small ball. John sighed and went checking Sherlock's room. He was surprised to find the detective asleep. Sherlock rarely sleep, but when he did he had an impossibly deep sleep. Often he even speaked in his sleep. John closed the door and went in his room to get some more sleep.  
Sam got up from the armchair. She needed to go to the bathroom. She did her physical needs, and while she was returning in the living room her gaze fell on her reflection on the mirror. A pale, thin little girl, with a curly brown hair and blue eyes with almost purple circles around them. She walked near the mirror. People often said that she had her mother's eyes. True. She always found her mother's eyes comforting. Also uncle Sherlock's were, they were very similar to her mother's, but not exactly the same. Sam's eyes were instead identical to her mother's ones. She kept looking straight in her riflection's eyes, forgetting the face around them.

When John woke, this time he knew exactly why. Sherlock was standing in his room, fully awake.  
- It was time to you to hear me -  
- Nnh 'hat time is 't? - John yawned.  
- 4.57 in the morning -  
- I slept... - - You slept from 11.27 to 2.04 and then again from 2.19 to 4.57, that's more than enough. Get up and dress, we're going out and we have to be out no later than 5.25 -  
- Why? -  
- Because it's summer, nights are short and we need the night. Move on, you already wasted thirty-seven seconds - with that, Sherlock went out. John sighed, getting up and wishing for his flatmate's sake that he had a good reason to waking him like this.  
When he went in the kitchen, he found Sherlock tapping annoyed with his fingers on the table and Sam sitting on a chair, with orrible circles around her eyes.  
- Finally you did it! - Sherlock commented - Sam, stand up we're going - Sam did as said.  
- Wait, she surely didn't sleep enough - John protested - Kids need more rest than adults -  
- I'm not stupid, I know it, and she isn't totally incapable of understending too, she knows we're talking about her. She'll sleep when we'll be back, now I need her and it's already 5.23, we're late - Sherlock said and went out, followed by a sleepy and pissed off John and a sleepy and emotionless Samantha.  



	7. Chapter 7

**_Hi! Sorry for the shortness of this chapter. I had some difficults writing it (expecially the end) and it doesn't really satisfy me. Please leave rewiews (also bad ones, I don't get offended)_**

John decided if he survived this morning he'd definetly kill his flatmate. After five minutes waiting for a cab to appear (apparently Sherlock's mysterious power in making a cab appear every bloody time he needed one was less powerful in the morning) and having a ride to a street only Sherlock knew existed (a couple of times he had to give instructions to the cabbie) they started running. Why running, John didn't understand. He only knew he had to lift up Sam because if he had problems in following a running Sherlock, she was left metres behind. Finally they stopped.  
- Sherlock... Next time you do that... I break your legs - John panted. Damn, Sam wasn't heavy but running with her in his arms was exahusting. John looked around.  
- You won't. Come, I'd like us to move a little - Sherlock said, going in the park in front of them. Sam, still in John's arms, clenched a little her fist on his jumper.  
- Oh no Sherlock, you aren't - John said.  
- Indeed, we are. Move your legs - Sam left John's jumper and got off him, following her uncle. John ran to catch Sherlock.  
- Are you mad? What are we doing here? -  
- The muder took place here, now we are investigating - Sherlock said, freeing himself from John's hold. The three arrived in a well known part of the park. The police already took away the corpse.  
- Now? - John asked.  
- Sam, you do remember what happened here? - she nodded - Everything? - she nodded again - Very well. Now, we'll do a reconstruction. I'll be your mother and John will be the murderer. I assume you two were walking here when the killer arrived, right? - Sherlock asked. Sam nodded, going paler and paler - Where did he arrive from? - Sam indicated a tree - John, go there - John sighed and did as ordered - Now? What happened exactly? - Sam swallowed.  
- He went where we were -  
- John - John walked to Sherlock  
- He looked Mum and then he took out a knife - John took an imaginary knife from his pocket.  
- What did you do? - Sherlock asked.  
- Mum told me to hide - Sam climbed on a tree - He didn't look me, just Mum. Then he catched Mum's arm and... And... - Sam went shut. Her eyes were wide, face almost grey, shaking from head to toe. She screamed. Her grasp on the tree weakened and she fell on the ground. Sherlock and John immediately ran to her. She stopped screaming when she fell and curled in a ball, hands on her head.  
- You shouldn't take her here! She's fucking traumatized, you idiot! - John hissed. Sherlock for once didn't say anything. John tried to check on her, but she crawled away from him. She couldn't stand.  
- Sam, it's alright - Sherlock said. She stared at him shaking - We aren't going to hurt you - Sam swallowed - Stop acting like that, you know us and you know nothing will happen to you - after a few moments, Sherlock took out a hand to her. She didn't try to escape and took the hand, trying to stand up. She fell.  
- I'll check you, ok? - John said. He kneeled in front of her. She gained a lot of bruises from the fall, and her left ankle was getting blue and swollen. It was probably dislocated.  
- I think we can go now - Sherlock said. John shot him an angry glare. Was it possible that he didn't realize that taking Sam there wasn't such a brilliant idea?  
- Yeah. Sam, I'll have to pick you up again, you cannot walk like that - Sam as always didn't give any sign of hearing his words. The doctor lifted her, noticing that she still trembled. Sherlock was already walking away.  
Sam fell asleep while in the cab. She was exahusted. Sherlock was already lost in his own thought and John really wanted to get home early. He was still irritated with Sherlock, he had to go to work and Sam was asleep with all her weight on John's bad leg. Apparently she found him very comfortable to use as a bed.  
Once at home, Sherlock buried himself in his room. When John asked him what was he doing he simply muttered something about his mind place. John waked Sam and medicated her ankle.  
- I leave you here, if you need to walk lean to something - John said. Sam didn't even look at him. The doctor went out, wondering how long would it take Sherlock to come to a conclusion about the murderer.  



End file.
